


Upper Hand

by larascasse



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Fucking, M/M, but not really, motorskink prompt fill, with some plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 21:24:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7590943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larascasse/pseuds/larascasse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kimi is in a bad place. Valtteri tries to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upper Hand

The moment Kimi walked in his room, Valtteri knew he was in a bad place. Kimi’s refusal of the offered beer simply confirmed it.  
  
‘Rough day?’ Valtteri asked, falling to their mother tongue as they always did when alone.  
  
‘Rough season,’ Kimi answered as he flopped down on the large bed and stared at the ceiling.  
  
Valtteri sat on the edge of the bed, nursing the beer in his hands. ‘It’ll turn around. You’ve given them everything they need to get the setup right.’  
  
Kimi kept gazing up with a vacant look in his eyes. ‘Doesn’t matter.’  
  
Valtteri shifted closer to Kimi. He never saw Kimi so down before. That’s the one thing he always admired about him, the way he could compartmentalize racing and everything else, how he could shrug off bad results and get on with what needed to be done to get back on top with no fuss.  
  
'What do you mean?' Valtteri asked.  
  
‘It’s Alonso’s team now. They don’t want me there,’ Kimi said, his voice so void of emotion that Valtteri felt his chest tighten.  
  
‘You don’t mean that,” Valtteri said, ‘It’s just media bullshit.’  
  
What normally would have sent Kimi into a venting session about his hate of the media didn’t even earn Valtteri a shrug. Kimi barely blinked. ‘It’s true. It doesn’t matter what I do. They won’t give me a chance.’  
  
Valtteri felt the anger rise inside him. How could Kimi give up so easily? It wasn’t like him. Kimi wasn’t supposed to care what people thought. He loved racing and loved winning even more. He always fought to be on top and seeing him so beaten down was infuriating. If only he could remind him of that.  
  
A thought crossed Valtteri’s mind, lifting the corners of his mouth into a subtle smile. He straddled Kimi’s hips, fingers toying with the cords on Kimi’s shorts. ‘Want to fuck?’  
  
Kimi sighed and opened his eyes to meet his. ‘Sure,’ Kimi said with a lack of enthusiasm that would normally turn him off, but today Valtteri was seeing it as a challenge.  
  
‘Good, take your clothes off,’ he said and they methodically dispensed of their clothes. ‘Can I top you?’ he asked while he spread Kimi’s thighs open, admiring the goods in front of him.  
  
Kimi looked at him with a bored expression. ‘Yeah, sure.’  
  
Valtteri didn’t bother with foreplay, maybe at a different time and in a different place, but not today. He simply grabbed some lube from his suitcase, coated his fingers and pressed them inside Kimi one at a time. It felt almost medical, asking if Kimi was okay every now and then, getting a simple yes in response. Valtteri persisted, finding Kimi’s sensitive spot and stroking it until Kimi’s hips started to jerk upwards.  
  
Kimi grasped at the bedsheet underneath him, fisting his hands as Valtteri entered him from behind. ‘Fuck,’ he muttered under his breath.  
  
Valtteri grinned at the sound, pushing deeper into Kimi. ‘You feel so good,’ Valtteri said, holding on to Kimi’s hips, and he thrust into him, setting a slow but steady pace. ‘It’s a wonder none of the other guys have a go at you.’  
  
Kimi groaned and curled both hands around the bar of the headboard to support himself. ‘I don’t let people fuck me,’ he said between heavy breaths.  
  
_That’s a start_ , Valtteri thought and laughed. ‘So what are we doing now,’ he purred into Kimi’s ear before sucking on his neck and leaving a dark mark Kimi would have to hide. Kimi bucked his hips backwards, but that only served to push Valtteri’s cock deeper inside and make Kimi fall over on himself gasping.  
  
‘Fuck you,’ Kimi growled as he lifted himself back up. Valtteri dug his fingers in Kimi’s skin, pushing harder against him, the slap of skin on skin getting louder.  
  
‘I don’t think so, I’d much rather fuck you,’ Valtteri teased, pushing Kimi in all the ways he could think of, and he had to control himself not to let himself go, to stay in control until he had accomplished what he wanted. It was no small feat though, seeing Kimi breathless from pleasure and riled up all at the same time was one of the hottest things he’d ever witness. ‘I’m a much better top than you anyways.’  
  
‘Bullshit,’ Kimi said, ‘I’m, ahhh, I’m better.’  
  
Valtteri stilled inside Kimi, pulling his cock out as slowly as he could, feeling Kimi suck his breath in. ‘Prove it,’ he whispered, then thrust hard into Kimi again.  
  
Kimi pushed Valtteri back and turned around to face him. ‘Fuck you, I don’t need to prove anything.’  
  
_There it is_. Valtteri smiled, stroking his cock lazily as Kimi watched on. ‘Yeah, just like you don’t need to prove you’re a better driver than Alonso.’  
  
‘What?!’ Kimi said, frowing at him. ‘Leave F1 out of this. It has nothing to do with this.’  
  
Valtteri curled his hand around the back of Kimi’s neck, slamming their mouths together, kissing him harshly and biting down on his bottom lip before letting Kimi go, leaving him moaning for more. ‘It has everything to do with it. You’re such a pushover, here, on the track. You let people walk all over you.’  
  
Kimi glared at him as he sucked on his bleeding lip. ‘I don’t fucking do that.’  
  
Valtteri tugged at Kimi’s hard cock, a smile still on his lips. ‘Prove it.’ _Come on, Kimi_.  
  
The seconds ticked by as they stared each other down, Valtteri’s hand still moving along Kimi’s dick. One moment his thumb was spreading pre-come over Kimi’s cockhead and the next he was on his back, Kimi’s fingers inside him to quickly work him open before he felt Kimi inside him. _Finally_.  
  
‘Kimi,’ he moaned, arching his back and twisting his hips to get the angle right. Kimi’s pace was fast and hard and Valtteri barely got a breath in, gasping for air between sloppy kisses and loud grunts, as much his as Kimi’s.  
  
Valtteri couldn’t think of a better way to come, Kimi feistily thrusting inside him, the cold fire back in his eyes, moving with purpose. He was in charge again.  
  
When their clothes were back on, Valtteri walked over to the mini bar and grabbed two bottles. ‘Beer?’ he offered Kimi.  
  
‘Thanks,’ he said, accepting the drink and cracking it open.  
  
Valtteri nodded and lifted his beer in acknowledgement. ‘I mean it,’ Kimi said after taking a swig of his beer. ‘Thanks for this. The fuck and the talk.’  
  
‘So what now?’ Valtteri asked.  
  
‘Now I go to Maranello and figure this shit out. Not letting the King of Spain have the upper hand again.’  
  
Valtteri chuckled. ‘Well spoken, oh Saviour of the country,’ he said before Kimi slammed a pillow in his face.


End file.
